


Teaching Restraint

by Vitreous_Humor



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Chastity, Cock & Ball Torture, F/M, Femdom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-12
Updated: 2013-10-12
Packaged: 2017-12-29 03:58:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1000606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vitreous_Humor/pseuds/Vitreous_Humor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a DA2 Kink Meme prompt regarding male chastity.  Miranda Hawke agreed to a chaste marriage with Sebastian Vael. What is she to do when he can't abide by the rules of their unusual arrangement?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teaching Restraint

**Author's Note:**

> Kink Meme Prompt: 
> 
> Sebastien Chastity Belt BDSM, No preference for LI.

Sebastian stared at the metal and leather object that Hawke dropped on his bed, the center of which seemed to be a metal tube shaped like...  
  
“What is this, Hawke?” he asked, his voice shakier than he would have liked.  
  
“I know you take our vows seriously,” she said, a slight smile on her face. “I want you to know that I do as well.”  
  
She sat on the only chair in his barren bedchamber, crossing her legs delicately at the ankle and looking up at him. There was something imperious in her gaze, something predatory that made the hairs on the back of his neck rise.  
  
“You’ve been having trouble, haven’t you?” she asked, her voice soft and sympathetic.   
  
Denying it would be unworthy of them both. Instead he only hung his head, ashamed of his own weakness.  
  
“Come here.”   
  
He stepped closer to the chair, and when she tugged on his sleeve, it seemed the simplest thing in the world to kneel next to her. She pressed his head to her lap, stroking his hair. Hawke smelled like her juniper bath salts, but underneath it was the scent of salt and leather. It made him stir uneasily, but her hand kept him knelt where he was.  
  
“Tell me,” she said, her voice husky. “ _Confess_ , if you like.”  
  
“In my bed,” he said roughly. “When I know others are not listening. I’ve no control when it comes to you. It doesn’t matter that we’ve never bedded together. Every night, I dishonor you and I dishonor myself.”  
  
Hawke’s sigh was slight, but it still made him wince. The problem was that even the shame was arousing. The thought of her sitting above him, her bright amber eyes stern and unforgiving, made him want to crawl, to do other things that he could not help imagining under his blankets when the rest of the chantry was asleep.   
  
Her fingers combed gently through his dark hair, and he wondered if she would forgive him, or if she would only call off this marriage of theirs, so queer and suited to no one but them. The thought of losing her stung like a scorpion whip, bit deeper than the shame of what he had done.   
  
Sebastian looked up, ready to beg, and found himself staring at Hawke’s most gentle, dangerous smile. It was the one she saved for men she knew were lying to her, for people who played her false, and his eyes widened.  
  
“We are chaste by your will, not by mine,” she said, almost mildly. “We sleep in separate houses because you belong to the Chantry. We kiss each other as circumspectly as a pilgrim does his marble saint, we _hold_ _hands_ like children...”  
  
Her voice sharpened, and her fingers in his hair tightened. It was just short of pain, but it verged on something so sensual that Sebastian nearly groaned.  
  
“At night, I keep my hands above the covers because if it is not your touch, _I don’t want it_ ,” she hissed. “I burn for you and if you want to keep me away, so be it, but Maker’s own,  _I will not burn alone_.”  
  
She stood without releasing her grip on his hair and she pulled him over the bed. They were equal in strength and speed, but he was too surprised to do more than follow, crouched and bent, until she came to the bed.  
  
“Put it on,” she said, just short of a snarl. “If you cannot rule yourself, I will.”

Her words shot spikes of desire low through his belly, and when he straightened, his cock was more than half-hard. With shaking hands he picked up the metal tube and the strap it was attached to. It was lighter than it looked, and Sebastian turned to Hawke, pleading and wordless.  
  
She loved him. He never doubted that. Her sharp gaze softened slightly and she reached for him, undoing his belt before opening his trousers. For a moment, she hesitated before touching his cock, and then she pulled it out roughly, as if she were handling something she found distasteful.   
  
Sebastian could see the flush on her cheeks and the way her little pink tongue flicked over her lips; she was nowhere near as unaffected as she acted, and for a moment, he wanted to step back to save them both from whatever was happening.   
  
Then she reached into his trousers and closed her strong, slender hand around his balls, twisting hard enough that he shrieked in surprise. His hands came up to her shoulders, ready to shove her away, but some sense for preservation must have stepped in and stopped him. Her hand was still wrapped firmly around his testicles and the thought of further injury made him cringe, silent and still.   
  
Quick as a cat, she spat in her hand and laved it over his softening member. His breath hissed through clenched teeth as she released his balls and shoved his cock into the metal tube, pinching the loose skin twice before it was all the way in. The soft leather strap wrapped around and underneath his balls, and to the top again where a pin was pulled through the leather loop and fastened in place with a lock smaller than his thumbnail.  
  
Her breath was coming hard and they both looked at the contraption fastened to him. She considered the key for a moment before dropping it delicately into her pouch and closing it.  
  
“I will rule you,” she repeated softly, almost to herself.  
  
She slid the edge of her finger through the wide slit at the end of the tube. She could just brush his flesh through the metal prison, and helplessly, he hardened again. The strap that bound his testicles to his cock tightened, threatening, and he could see what would happen if he became fully erect.   
  
“Maker above, Hawke,” he said, his voice soft and strained. His fingers were biting into her shoulders, hard enough to leave bruises, but she looked up at him steadily.   
  
“Sit on the bed, husband,” she whispered and mute, he obeyed. Moving with the cage locked to him was awkward, but far from impossible, and he sat on the bed gingerly, looking up at her.  
  
He wasn’t sure he had ever seen her so soft, so loving, and she came and straddled his hips, sitting just in front of the cage. Her nearness and her scent were maddeningly arousing and he groaned as the strap cut into him again.  
  
“What now?” he heard himself ask. The voice barely sounded like it belonged to him. It sounded raw, like it had been grated.  
  
“Now I want to kiss you,” she said, and she pressed her lips chastely to his.


End file.
